


Sick Leave

by NoelleAngelFyre



Series: Steal My Heart (It's Already Yours) [4]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Barry is in deep, David Singh is a smart cookie (just slightly off the mark this time), Fluff and Humor, Len is a sassy little brat, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Secret Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, no plot to see here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24762778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleAngelFyre/pseuds/NoelleAngelFyre
Summary: Barry Allen seems a little off today.
Relationships: Barry Allen & Leonard Snart, Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Series: Steal My Heart (It's Already Yours) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758994
Comments: 6
Kudos: 299





	Sick Leave

David Singh did not earn the rank of captain through frivolous connections or financial persuasion. He earned his place in the CCPD through solid effort, a strict work ethic, and unflappable principles. This is the rock on which he stands and so considers his ascent with great pride and no regrets.

The bottom line is, he didn’t become captain of the CCPD by being a world-class idiot. So when he walks into the CSI lab at exactly half past two, one seasonably warm afternoon, he immediately notes something to be off in Barry Allen. The kid is leaning heavily into the desk, braced on his elbows, and looks like he is fighting tooth-and-nail for the next wave of concentration. There’s a visible flush to his cheeks and a mild sheen of perspiration on his forehead and neck.

“Allen,” David announces himself before taking a few easy strides toward the desk, “you don’t look so well.”

(Getting to the point, after all, is simply a matter of tact: there are few things he can tolerate _less_ than his officers taking thirty minutes to make a two-minute point.)

“I don’t?” the kid sounds winded too.

“In fact,” David runs a critical eye over him, as much as can be seen from this angle, and shakes his head, “you look terrible.”

“I do?” Allen blinks blearily, like the room is going in and out of focus. He’s white-knuckling the desk, probably because it’s the only thing keeping him upright.

“Yes, Allen, you do.” David shakes his head heavily and with a profound sigh, “I told you to stop putting in all that overtime. We need you at your best, and this is _not_ your best.”

“I…I’m sorry.” Allen licks his lips. Great: he’s probably dehydrated too, since he forgets to drink water on any kind of regular basis, “I’ll drink some coffee – or an energy drink. I’ll…I’ll pull it together.”

“What you’ll do,” David holds up a hand and the kid wisely buttons up, “is finish up the report on the Sanderson case and take the rest of the day off. Call it an early weekend. When you come in on Monday, I expect you ready to pull double duty.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good lad,” David gives him another look, then shakes his head, “Try to not leave your bed most of the weekend, alright? You look like you haven’t been in it more than two hours at a time.”

“Yes, sir.” That one comes out nearly a squeak.

“Hurry up and get out of here. I’ll see you Monday.”

***

Barry watches as the captain walks out the door, partially pulling it closed behind him as if to ward off any officer or detective thinking of barging in with last-minute requests because the crime lab is officially closed until Monday morning, then shoves himself (and, by default, the chair he’s sitting in) backwards about two feet.

“Do you _mind_??”

“Not at all.” Len slinks out from under the desk, every bit as graceful and smug as a satisfied cat, and dusts himself off with a few flourishes of the hand, “I was actually quite comfortable down there.”

“This is where I _work_.” Barry grits the words out through his teeth, “Are you trying to get me fired?”

“You should be thanking me, darling,” Len doesn’t use the more tender (see: sappier) pet-names unless he plans to apply considerable sass on the delivery, and nowhere is that more evident than right now, “I just got you a half-day reprieve.”

“Because my captain thought I was coming down with something.” Barry suddenly snaps out of the chair, right into his lover’s space, and clamps a hand over Len’s mouth, “And so _help you_ if you say I’m coming down with a cold.”

In hindsight, it is a singularly terrible idea to give Len unfiltered access to Barry’s hands like that: there’s a little spot right at the wrist joint where, with the right application of pressure (usually, from the mouth), the speedster will turn into a helpless pile of putty. And, right on cue, that’s exactly where Len drags his lips and that’s exactly what Barry becomes: a pile of putty melting right into Len’s chest.

Smug bastard.

“Hate you…” Barry grumbles, face buried in the older man’s shoulder.

“Yes, I know. My poor sweetheart, how I abuse and neglect you.” Len’s petting his hair. Jerk. “I suppose I will have to make it up to you all weekend. Say, by taking your captain’s direct order to ‘not leave the bed all weekend,’ perhaps?”

…oh God.

**Author's Note:**

> I know my dearest darling readers - you make life so good for me and I don't know what I would do without you guys at this point - have eagerly requested a sequel to "You're the One I've Waited For (Now You're Home"). That is in the works - I promise - just a slow progression. In the meantime, have some fluff. I hope it at least gets a chuckle. :)


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